I See Colour (in the skies)
by Gold That Glistens
Summary: Sirius is in love with Remus, but is too cowardly to tell him. A bit angsty. Wolfstar. (Takes place in the Order of the Phoenix.)
1. Chapter 1

Warning: This work is rated T for coarse language and suggestive adult themes. If you believe the language and/or themes are worthy of the rating M, please let me know and I would be happy to change the rating. Other than that, please enjoy! Reviews are welcome :)

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I watch the skies at night.

It is never truly dark anymore. Light pollution has made the sky a sickly grey colour. I miss the black nights of old; nights where I could see the stars. I remember watching the stars in the Astronomy tower back at Hogwarts. Though I complained about the work, I loved the height and the chill; it felt as though I was on top of the world. And in a sense, I was. Three fantastic friends and my whole life ahead of me.

Now I feel confined, as though I never left Azkaban.

I want to fly away, but I am not allowed to fly. I miss the feeling of the air rushing past my face and the sense of immortality that accompanies the adrenaline rush of riding on a broom. Or on my motorcycle. I miss freedom. More than anything do I want to go on missions for the Order. I want to feel danger; I want to feel alive.

Instead I must stand by the window and search the sky.

I feel acid prickling at my stomach, an angry burning sensation of fear and frustration. I am so helpless.

I have long fucked up any chances of being with him. Thinking he was the traitor and spending twelve years in Azkaban because the world thought I was the traitor completely screwed me over for any romantic relationship. But, hell. What's a man to dream?

I look for colour in the sky. That means Remus is alright.

And in this moment, standing alone, siloetted aggainst the window, I miss James so much it hurts. If he were here, James would know what to say, know what to do. James would have known I wasn't the traitor. James would have helped with Remus.

Remus. Merlin, Remus Lupin. I hadn't seen him in so long. I had forgotten his voice, his eyes, his soft hair. But even before that, I had forgotten his kindness. After the cold atmosphere of Azkaban Remus seemed to be a cozy fire and a steaming mug of hot chocolate. I couldn't get enough of his warmth. Remus was the kindest one out of all of us. And in the horror and terror of war I had forgotten that. I had forgotten I loved him. I still love him.

I turn away from the window and sigh. My life is completely fucked up. Not that it wasn't before.

If James were here, I would not be back in Grimmauld Place. He knew how much I hated this fucking place. How much I hated my mother. I hated her because I loved her. She was my family; she was my mother. Aren't mothers supposed to love their children?

I still remember James's face when he saw my the purple bruises on my back. Just some good old fashioned punishment for putting those Muggle posters on the wall. Kreacher did the actual physical work, on my mother's orders of course. My mother refused to touch me. Only James knows. Knew, that is.

I look at the clock. It is 10:33. They are thirty minutes late. My stomach clenches.

Where are they?

That is life. All the girls wanted me, but I want the one guy that doesn't love me. But, even if he never loves me back, I will stand here by the window waiting for him. I would do that even if he will only ever be my friend.

I pace the floor. Dust motes jitter in the moonlight.

And I look up. I see red lights in the sky.

Safe.

Remus is safe.


	2. Chapter 2

I am the jovial host. Happy to have everyone here, to offer someone a butterbeer.

It is good having Harry back. When he laughs, I am flooded with nostalgia. I remember planning and executing pranks with Remus's disproval and James's roaring laugh. And Peter. That little bastard.

Remus looks gorgeous tonight, with his hair windswept and his cheeks red from the long ride in the cold. I admire his chocolate brown eyes and his chapped pink lips.

I try avoid looking at Remus too much, but to no avail. I don't want to cause too much suspicion. Homosexuality is accepted about as much in the Muggle world in the Wizarding world. That is to say, it is merely tolerated.

I know Remus (on the rare occasions when he has dated) has dated both men and women. I don't think he knows that I know. That's alright. He doesn't know about me. As much as I do, I don't want to bring it up.

I talk to Harry and I'm glad he's away from those blasted Dursleys. I can't believe how tall he has gotten, how much more sorrowful and angry he looks. With every day, he looks more and more like James. I still remember how he looked as a baby, chubby and fat, always happy and gurgling. I remember getting pictures from Lily in the mail. No matter how dark the world had seemed, Harry's smiling face always made me laugh. I had imagined being the dashing Godfather, the one teaching Harry how to pull off pranks, showering Harry with gifts, getting into madness and mayhem. But most of all, I had promised Jamie-boy that I would look after him. I intend to keep that promise. The only person I love as much as Remus is Harry.

And I suddenly become angry. Why is the world so fucking unfair? Hell, I'll still be that Godfather, the one that gives Harry what he wants, treats him as an equal. I feel the anger, the restlessness, and the unhappiness lurching together unpleasantly in my stomach; I know it is a dangerous combination. I lash out at Molly Weasley, who is mollycoddling Harry as usual. I feel a twinge of regret when I see her hurt face, but it is immediately satiated by Harry's look of respect. I tell myself that Harry should know information about the Order. James would have included him. To my surprise, Remus agrees. I feel elated. So there, Molly Weasley.

But I am mad at Molly anyway. Though her cooking is downright delectable, she had been a meddling busybody, judging me with her uppity airs and blaming me about Dung. It's not my fault that Dung left guard duty.

Then Molly mentions Azkaban and I explode. It's not my fault I spent twelve years of my life locked up in Azkaban. It's not my fault I couldn't look after Harry. Merlin knows I wanted to. But I was stuck in fucking Azkaban being sucked dry of the few happy memories I had in my shitty life. I start to stand up, feeling the anger course through my blood.

Then Remus reproaches Molly and snaps at me. Bloody hell, he must be pissed. He normally never raises his voice. I sit down, chastised. Bad dog. I feel the anger leave from my face to be replaced with the pale colour of shock. Remus is right. Remus is always right. Has always been right. He keeps me in control. I am getting out of control. I can't do that in front of Harry.

But as I sit, listen and contribute to (rightfully) informing Harry about the actions of the Order, my anger still simmers, especially at Molly. Sometimes I think she dislikes me because I am a Black. I am foul; I am rotten; my soul is as black as my name. After all, the Blacks had a hand in the murders of the Prewett brothers. My relatives are murders. And I wish I had murdered Pettigrew.

I am ready to let Harry join the Order. Let him fight! Why stop him? He is old enough now to understand; he shouldn't be babied. He should understand what's going on. He should be able to avenge the death of his parents. He's probably faced more than everyone at this table combined. He's certainly braver than anyone else at the table; that is a fact. I'm ready to argue with Molly Weasley for hours. I'm ready to win. Who the fuck is she to tell Harry what to do? She isn't his bloody mother.

But it is Remus who says no and so I swallow back my arguments and shrug. I'm not going to argue with Remus. And if he says no, he's probably right. I trust Remus now. I must.

I stand up from the table and run my hands through my hair. What a shitty day. What a shitty shitty day. But I suppose, since Dumbledore's kept me cooped up here, every day has been pretty bloody awful.

On the bright side, Remus spent a lot of time looking at me. I could feel his eyes on my face. I couldn't tell if he was staring at me because he thought I was being a prick or because he liked looking at me. I hope will all my heart that it is the latter. I love looking at Remus.


	3. Chapter 3

As I walk up to bed, Remus approaches me.

"Want a drink?" He motions at a bottle of Firewhiskey in his hand. I know he wants to talk about today.

"Would love one," I say and follow him to a sitting room. He sits on a dusty old couch and I sit on an adjacent armchair.

The sitting room is the room I would consider closest to cozy in the house. The couch cushions are somewhat squishy and a great big fireplace gapes like an open mouth. Bookshelves line the walls filled with books that would feel at home in the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts library. This was the first room I cleaned out myself. It was reportedly late Uncle Alphard's favorite room in the house and I could see why; it is close to the kitchen, but also rather isolated and off to the side, so a crazy Walburga Black couldn't swoop in on you with out any warning.

We sit in the dark, Remus and I, each clutching a bottle of Firewhisky. I feel the alchohol burn its way through my stomach and feel the false fiery courage warm my heart.

"Would you have ever imagined," I say, "back in our school days, that we would ever find ourselves here?"

Remus looks at me. His hair looks soft and friendly. I resist the urge to run my fingers through it.

Remus looks down at his Firewhisky. "I would have never," he said quietly. "I don't have such a dark imagination." He pauses. "I would have never dreamed of Lily and James dying before old age. Or that Peter Pettigrew would grow to be even more than a coward. Or that you..." Remus looks up at me, almost pityingly.

I shrug.

Remus sighs. "I might have seen something dark in the future for myself. But never for my friends."

I look at him and attempt to memorize the silhouette of his face. His face is lined and his hair is flecked with grey. He looks sad, albeit beautiful. I am sure the years had treated him as harshly as they had treated me. I know it was not easy being a werewolf.

"I'm sorry, Moony," I say.

He looks at me surprised. "For what?"

"For not being there with you for the past 10 years. For being the hotheaded idiot that I am who tried to blow Wormtail up. And for thinking you were the traitor."

He gives me a small smile and my heart thuds painfully in my chest. "You don't need to apologize. You keep apologizing. I'm guilty as well. I thought you were the traitor. I should have known better."

With the Firewhisky burning liquid courage through my veins and Remus smiling his beautiful smile before me, I take a bold step; I move next to him on the couch. I try to put my arm around him, but I find my arm does not move.

After all these years, I am still a coward.

We sit there in companionable silence, listening to the many creatures in the house scuttle sleepily in the dark. My hand is close to his thigh, so close I can feel the heat from his body. I take small sips of my drink and soak in the fact that he is next to me. That I am with the only true friend left alive.

Sometime later, he stands up. "Well, I'm off to bed, old Padfoot." He pats me on my head as if I were a dog and I smile up at him.

He smiles. "Your face has an uncanny doglike resemblance right now." And to prove him right, I turn into Padfoot, tounge lolling, tail waving.

Moony pets my head and I wag my tail accordingly and give him a big lick on the face. He laughs and pushes me away. "Doggy breath," he complains.

I walk with him to his room and sit outside once he has gone in and closed the door.

Only in dog form do I have the courage to kiss him.

Sometimes I'm such a fucking coward, that I hate myself.

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Thanks for reading, I will have another chapter out soon!

Reviews are very welcome :)


	4. Chapter 4

I can't deny that it is wonderful having Grimmauld Place full of people. Normal people.

Molly is waging a war on the house; Harry and his friends are full of laughter and smiles; the twins are up to no good. Harry occasionally looks stressed about his Ministry hearing and I try to quash the hope that they will find him guilty. I am his Godfather, afterall. But some evil part of me wishes that his wand will be broken in half, because if he did, surely he and Remus would stay with me in this great big house, and I would not feel so lonely.

But on the bright side, I talk to Remus every night. We sit and chat by a fire I draw up in the fireplace in that little old sitting room. Sometimes he reads to me and I turn into Padfoot and place my head in his lap while he scratches my head.

Other nights we have more serious conversations. We talk about the state of the war, the prophecy, and Harry.

We are getting closer and closer to being what we used to be. Best friends. And yet something is different. Sometimes, I think we are moving to be more than friends.

One night, I had jumped when I saw Kreacher walking down the corner with a large stick. It turned out to be some old family heirloom that Molly had tried to throw away, which I forced him to throw away. Stupid sniveling git.

When I got back to Remus, he was looking at me with a concerned expression.

"Why do you treat Kreacher like that?"

I paused. "Like what?"

Remus frowned. "You know."

I turned away and took out a bottle of Firewhiskey. "I don't."

Remus sighed. "Sirius, please."

The stupid bottle wasn't opening. "He is a despicable little scrotum, that's why."

"Siruis, don't open the bottle. You've had enough tonight." The voice was soothing, but I suddenly felt irritated.

"I can make my own decisions, Remus," I had snarled.

"I know you can, Siruis. But you are mercurial when you drink." I now was angry. I don't know why.

"Then leave me alone!" I knew I was proving his point and I regretted the words as soon as I had shouted them.

"Fine."

"I'm sorry, Remus," I said to the empty room. _You don't understand, I love you._

"Remus?" I shouted. No answer. I scurried up to his room and his door was closed.

I knocked. "Remus, I'm sorry. You are right. You are always right," I told the door. I hated the door. I hated this house

There was no answer.

"I'm just going to sit out here and wait for you. Mrs. Potter always said it isn't good to go to bed angry," I informed the doorknob.

"Remus," I sighed. Stupid hotheaded Sirius had struck again.

After some time, I had gotten tired of standing in front of the door, so I turned into Padfoot. I scratched the door and whined. Still no answer. I tried again.

After about twenty minutes of that, an angry Mrs. Weasley came down the corridor in her night gown. She looked at me lying in front of Moony's door with a pitiful expression and a bloody paw from pawing at the door, and rolled her eyes.

She pounded on the door. "Remus, dear. Will you please come out and shut up your bloody dog?"

Moony opened the door, his hair disheveled. "What's that Molly?" he asked.

"Siruis," Molly pointed to me as if I were a spot of mold that needed cleaning. "He's been whining at your door for the past twenty minutes or so."

"Oh really?" asked Moony. He looked at me and I gave him my best pitiful dog look. "Dumbledore gave me a silencing nightcap. I haven't heard a thing."

"Oh," said Molly. "Well then, goodnight. See that Sirius stays quiet, will you love?" And with one more glare at me, she turned back to her room.

"Poor old Padfoot," said Moony. "You bloodied your paw at my door. I suspect you came to say something to me?"

I gave him another sad and guilty look, and sat on his feet to lick his ankles apologetically.

"Yuck! Padfoot, get off. You are so strange in dog form sometimes." He turned and sat on his bed. "Let me look at your paw, Padfoot."

I bounded up onto bed with him and licked his face energetically. _I'm sorry, Moony. I love you, I love you, I love you,_ I told him with every lick.

"Geowff Padfoot," Moony responded fending me off. "Sit still." I happily obeyed. He tapped my paw with his wand and murmured, "Good dog." I thought my tail would fall off for all the wagging it was doing and I gave him my best doggy smile.

Moony patted my head. "Poor Padfoot. Locked up in this house. It would drive anyone insane. And most of all you."

I licked his hand and gave him another pitiful doggy look. He laughed and stopped petting me.

I nudged his hand to get him to start again.

"I'm tired, Padfoot. I want to go to bed."

I sighed and moved to the end of the bed, turned around three times, and curled into a ball.

"Padfoot," groaned Moony. "Get off my bed." But he laid back down and moved under the covers.

I waited a few minutes before joining him at the head of the bed. I laid down and put my nose in his neck.

"Goodnight, Padfoot," muttered Mooney sleepily.

I licked his neck and snuggled next to him. I am really bravest in dog form. Or a terribly cowardly human.


	5. Chapter 5

After that night, Remus and I have been growing closer.

We sit side by side on our nightly talks now, instead of me in the armchair and him on the couch.

I hug him goodnight and bring him glasses of wine and order boxes of chocolate. He says I am making him fat.

Sometimes I even "forget" to turn into Padfoot when he reads, and put my head in his lap when I am still Sirius. He pets my head just the same, and I resist to urge to wag my rump.

I long for more.

When he is standing at his door wishing me goodnight, I want to wrap my arms around him and kiss him goodnight.

I want his room to become our room. I want to hold him when I sleep and kiss away his bad dreams. I want to kiss him passionately and make love at midnight.

Hell, I would even be happy with chaste on-the-cheek kisses. I haven't kissed anyone, or been kissed in years. No one has wanted to kiss me in years, except perhaps the dementors.

Remus leaves on another Order mission. I give him an extra long hug and tell myself that if he gets back alive I will tell him how I feel. He smiles sadly at me as he leaves.

The full moon passes and Remus is still gone.

Then the next Order meeting comes and Remus is there, looking worn and haggard with dark circles under his eyes. He is limping slightly and too skinny. I listen to Snape sneer about my comfy position at Grimmauld sitting on my bum all day and have never hated him more. I stand up ready to hex him into oblivion.

He doesn't understand that what I want most is to fight and fight and _fight_. I want to leap into action. I want to protect Remus and Harry. I want to _murder_ Peter Pettigrew and that fucked up cousin of mine and could possibly murder Snape right now while I'm at it. I feel the same madness take over me when I discovered James and Lily died. I know the madness is hereditary. It is part of being a Black. Look at my bitch of a mother and my good-for-nothing brother. Look at this fucked up excuse for a home. Look at me.

But something makes me look at Remus and he shakes his head a millimeter. The angry knot in my stomach loosens and I am filled with sadness. I remember he used to do that at Hogwarts when he disapproved of a particularly nasty prank.

Out of habit, I almost turn to smirk at James. "Remus is getting in touch with his prefect side," I would say. And James would smile at Remus and say with exaggerated horror, "Well, I guess we better not do it. Can't get detention from the prefect." And despite our antics, we would stop whatever we were planning and begin to work on another prank that Remus did not find so unappealing.

My heart feels like it decided to carry the weight of a thousand stones. No James. No more James. I sit back down and Remus smiles at me. I smile back. The snide voice of Snape rings in my ears, but I keep my eyes on Remus. And he keeps his eyes on me.

Later that night, I help Remus change his bandages and rub potions into his wounds. I wince at his scar covered body and guiltily want to kiss it better. Instead, I smile at him and hand him a clean t-shirt.

He smiles and says, "Thank you," in his perfectly calm Moony voice. Typical self sacrificing Remus. I know it's the voice he adapts when he is in pain and doesn't want to show it.

"Are you ok?" I ask. "What happened?" I try not to sound so worried.

"I'm fine," he says, not quite meeting my eyes. "And I'm afraid it's mysterious Order business again. Dumbledore made me swear complete secrecy." Remus looks up at me and my eyes meet his. For some reason I cannot fathom, he looks afraid.

"Is it dangerous?" I ask. "Dumbledore shouldn't be putting you in danger. You don't owe anything to him."

Remus sighs. "I do owe something to him. He was the first wizard besides my parents who thought of me as human, who gave me my humanity. And even if I didn't owe anything to him, I owe something to the innocent people who will get murdered by followers of Voldemort. I want to make this word a better place."

I frown. "But Remus. You were always human. What do you mean Dumbledore gave you your humanity? And I don't want _you_ to be one of the innocent people being murdered by Death Eaters."

He smiles at me but it is more of a grimace. "I can take care of myself, Sirius. But thank you for caring."

The fear in his eyes has diminished, but traces of it linger in the creases of his smile. And then I know.

Years ago, almost fifteen years ago, we had a similar conversation. Except when Remus told me he couldn't tell me what he was up to, I was angry. The Marauders had shared _everything_. There were no secrets. James and I made no secret of the raids on Death Eaters that we had accomplished, even bragging loudly about the one involving a high speed chase and the Muggle police. And all the while, Remus kept secrets from me. With Peter's help, the anger at being left out from Remus's life fermented into a sinking suspicion that Remus was the traitor. That stupid bloody mistake that resulted in James and Lily's deaths, Remus's isolation, Peter's escape, and me landing myself in a nice dark cell in Azkaban. The colossal mistake made by yours truly. I might as well have been helping the other side.

I frown. I hate the hurt I brought upon Remus. I hate the pain and mistrust that still affects our friendship today.

"Sirius?" asks Remus. "Are you all right?"

I look at him. I suddenly realize I have been silent for about a minute while I strangled the neck of the potion bottle in my right hand.

"Er. Yes," I say. "Just thinking about...things."

"Oh," replies Remus. "Things?"

"Peter," I reply. "And Lily and James."

"Oh," says Remus. "I was thinking of them too. I think of them a lot."

"I do too," I say. We sit in silence on Remus's bed. I'm still clutching the healing potion and the bandages as if they will fly away.

"You know, they never thought you were the traitor. It was just me. And that's because I was angry at you for keeping things from me, that you had every right to keep from me. Because I am a bloody idiotic git. I can never say sorry enough, and I don't expect you to forgive me when I can't even forgive myself, but I hope you know that I am really sorry?" I end in a question. I cringe inwardly. That rant made as much sense as a house elf on firewhisky.

"They never thought I was the traitor?" asks Remus in a hoarse voice. His normally bright brown eyes were clouded with sorrow.

"No, never. They said I was an idiot. Lily was especially vocal about it," I say. I watch his long dark eyelashes flutter, trying to hold back tears.

Remus was silent. "I'm so _so_ sorry, Remus. It was all my bloody fault." My voice is ugly and pleading.

"Stop apologizing, Sirius. Just stop." His voice sounds tired and defeated.

I don't know what to do. I pretend to look in my pockets so I can give him a chance to wipe his eyes. (And a chance to wipe mine surreptitiously on my sleeves.) I find a bar of half melted chocolate.

"Chocolate, Remus?" I ask when I think he and I have sufficiently composed ourselves.

He gives me a small smile. "You really are daft." He uses his thumb to wipe away a tear that has clung to my eyelash. My skin tingles where he has touched it. "I could never stay mad at you for long." He takes the chocolate from my hands.

I hug him in what I hope is a brotherly fashion. Like how I would hug James. His hair feels so soft against my cheek and he feels so warm.

I feel so comfortable that I begin to tread on edges of his kindness. "I'd be as Padfoot, of course, but can I-?" I cut myself off as I pull away. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I had almost asked if I could stay. I stand up. Time to go.

"You can stay," Remus says. "If you want." I gape at him. _How did he know_?

He smiles at me, while shaking his head with a hint of disbelief, and I feel as though I have been filled with helium. I don't bother answering. I turn into Padfoot and wait at the end of his bed until he begins to fall asleep. I scoot up to Moony's head and breath in the smell of parchment and chocolate that is just Moony.

I don't ask him how long he is going to stay here, and I don't tell Remus how I feel. Next time, I promise myself as I start to fall asleep. Next time I will tell.


	6. Chapter 6

I wake slowly. I feel delightfully warm and my face is squashed into something very soft. I feel relaxed and well rested.

I open my eyes. Remus is curled into my chest. His head is just under my chin and his arms are wrapped around my chest. My legs are entangled with his legs and my hand is loosely draped over his torso; my other squashed under his chest.

I close my eyes and smile. Remus is one gorgeous man.

I open my eyes. What the fuck am I doing in Remus's bed? Is this a dream?

I pinch my self. It hurts.

I close my eyes. It's not a dream.

Remus snorts and shifts his head a little. I freeze. My brain seems to short out. I am in Remus's bed. I am in Remus's bed.

What the hell happened last night?

And then it comes back to me. I vaguely recall me being rather pathetic and snivelly and asking Remus if I could stay with him like a frightened toddler. And Remus, being the wonderfully nice caring person he is, let me sleep with him, in his bed, _as Padfoot_.

Why the fuck am I in human form then?

I groan. It's bad enough that I embarrassed myself last night being a rather teary eyed git, but now I'm imposing on Remus's trust and his privacy.

I carefully try to detangle myself from his body with out waking him up, so I can turn into Padfoot.

When I do, I look at him, and he is so beautiful that it hurts. His hair is spread out on the pillow. His mouth is open slightly and his pink lips are parted. His long eyelashes hover delicately over his cheeks. His hand is curled up besides him, making him look angelically innocent. I hate that he is so close to me and I cannot touch him or run my hands through his hair or kiss him. My heart pangs. I wish I could lie down and warp my arms back around him.

I shake my head. I really need to stop being such a creepy pervert, oogling my friend when he is unaware. I turn into Padfoot and everything is simpler. With I am Padfoot, I do not feel guilt tearing me in two, I simply feel sad. I do not feel a vast storm cloud of depression, instead I feel the urge to run outside and chase some pigeons. I do not feel the bittersweet feelings of love and sadness when I see Remus, I simply think _'Moony (mate)'_.

I stop. Mate? Padfoot agrees. Mate. And I understand that this way is not 'mate' in the way that I called James or Peter mate, but 'mate' in a distinctly intimate way. Like James and Lily were mates. Mate.

My dog brain feels like it is going to explode from complex emotions. _Moony (mate) smells good. Sad. Want to chase pigeons. Need to leave room._

I jump from the bed, pad across the room, and open the door with a large paw. I travel up the stairs to my own room, across from Regulus's old room and curl up in my cold bed.

I'm lonely. I think.

* * *

I see Remus downstairs for breakfast and feel a bit embarrassed. I can't bring myself to meet his eyes. Luckily, Harry and the loud Weasley clan noisily demand attention from both me and Remus.

I help the Weasleys rid a foul smelling back room of a small bundimun infestation. The Scouring Charm works, well, like a charm on the bundimuns and is also strangely cathartic to blast away the pests. I try not actively avoid Remus, but I definitely try to limit contact. I'm not sure if he knows I had turned back into my human self. I don't want him to feel uncomfortable. I can't lose him as a friend, when I've already lost so fucking much.

When night falls, Remus is waiting with two bottles of butterbeer. I breath a sigh of relief. Things are back to normal.

We walk into the little sitting room and I light a fire. The flames flicker and dance over his face, and I study the outline of his nose and the raised white bump of a scar on his neck. He stares into the flames as if waiting for someone to Floo him.

"Were you avoiding me today?" asks Remus. His voice is mellow. I shift uncomfortably in my seat. He usually isn't so blunt.

"No," I lie. "I was just busy. That bundimun infestation really was starting to stink."

He hums in gentle agreement and my heart beats faster. I don't understand how he manages to be so... _sexy_ in soft patched sweaters and brown corduroy pants. If I could figure out his secret, I would be the most sought after man on the earth.

"I thought you might be embarrassed," says Remus still studying the fire thoughtfully.

"Me? Why?" I ask. My face feels hot and I think it is from the fire.

"Because I asked you to stay."

"No, no! Not at all. I thought I asked if I could stay. I sleep better with you. Not as many nightmares." As I say it, I realize it is true. Most nights I wake up just as the dementors' scabby hands have grasped my chin for the last kiss of my life.

"Now that you mention it, my nightmares subsided when you were there as well. I wonder why that is." Remus looks pensive. I notice he is not looking at me; he is looking into the fire.

"You have nightmares?" I ask. "I don't remember you having any when we shared a dorm."

"Yes," he sighs. "My nightmares have gotten worse. I dream about my transition. I dream that Greyback is chasing me and my friends and I can't get away. The worst dream is when I see daylight and I am still the wolf. I am stuck in wolf form forever. Fortunately, I wake up soon after."

"You shouldn't go on more Order missions. I'm sure the missions don't help. When is your next one?"

Remus laughs. "I'm not about to stop going on missions because it might exacerbate my nightmares. And I leave in about a week."

"Oh," I respond. A week? A week seems too soon.

"How are you doing, Sirius? Cooped up in this big ugly house?"

"It's alright. Although I'm getting blindingly pale, I'm doing okay. I try to stretch my legs at least once a day. And I'm doing push ups and sit ups. The normal routine." I try not to sound proud about working out. The other day I swear I spotted a bump of muscle in my still emaciated arms.

"That's good. I still don't think it's right that you're cooped up in here all the time, though."

"Well, what's is there to do?" I try to make my voice lighthearted, but it still sounds bitter. I have been imprisoned now for about half of my life. I want to walk free.

"Well, we could sneak out, you know," says Remus.

"Who are you and what have you done with Remus Lupin?" I ask jokingly, flourishing my wand at him.

He laughs and his eyes crinkle up with amusement. "I was a Marauder, too. You and James weren't the only one breaking the rules."

"When should we do it?" I leap up from the couch in excitement.

"Calm down, Sirius," laughs Remus. "We'll do it when Harry and the Weasley's are gone. When it'll be just us in the house. But we will have to be super careful." Remus frowns with worry. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

I grin at him. "This is the Moony I know. The cautious one. We'll be careful! We'll be extremely careful! I promise I won't do anything stupid. We'll just make really excellent plans." I rub my hands hands together with glee.

Remus smiles at me. "Poor Padfoot. Deprived of excitement and sunlight. But let's plan it another day. I'm a bit knackered tonight." He yawns toothily at me.

"Of course, Remus," I say. "You're still healing. Let's go off to bed, shall we?"

I put out the fire and follow him up the stairs to his room. I can't help apprehensive. After all that talk about how we are each other's own nightmare prevention, where the fuck am I supposed to sleep?

Remus opens the door to his room and trudges inside and I hover uncertainly by the door.

"Coming?" he asks covering another wide yawn with his hand.

I nod and swiftly turn into Padfoot. I follow him into his room and jump on his bed. I turn around three times and give a big sigh as the tension slowly drains out of my body. Now all I have to do is remain Padfoot for the entire night and everything will be just fine.

* * *

I'm sorry, I think I messed up the chapter order!


	7. Chapter 7

After a week of sleeping, in Remus's room as Padfoot (with no further incidents of spontaneous human transformation, thank Merlin) it is the night before Remus leaves on his next Order mission.

I have struck up a fire in the massive fireplace and it makes the room a bit more homely. I invite Remus in and we sit and talk about Harry.

"He's a smart boy," I boast. "One of the best in his class, too. And an excellent seeker."

Remus nods. "When I taught him, he was excellent at DADA. Better than James, I would say."

"But not better than you, Remus, you are the best at DADA. Were always the best," I say giving him a nudge.

It could be the fire, but Remus looks a little red. "I am not an expert at DADA. I got the job because of Dumbledore's generosity."

"Oh shut it," I say. "You got the job because you were overqualified for it. If not for your furry little problem, you would be in demand in wizarding jobs everywhere. It's not fair really."

"You're telling me," says Remus flatly.

"I'm sorry, Remus," I say and he shrugs indicating he is done talking about the subject.

"You know, one thing about Harry," says Remus thoughtfully, "Is that he is extraordinarily modest. He's called the Chosen One and everyone in the wizarding world knows his name. But he certainly doesn't act famous. Not like James," Remus chuckles.

"James had an extraordinarily big head," I say. "That cannot be denied. Thought he was the biggest quidditch hotshot to hit Hogwarts, always grinning and winking at the girls. Or at just Lily, I suppose." I smile at the thought.

"But it was offset by his kindness," says Remus. Remus always sees the good in people.

"Yep, to match his big head, our Jamsie-boy had an equally big heart," I agree. "Remember when James tried to impress Lily with that pot roast that he accidentally transfigured into a gigantic mushroom? And when she got back, it kept growing, almost through the roof, and James was frantically poking it, trying to make it smaller?" I ask.

Remus laughs. "The best part was when he told her that everything was under control. I think she almost hexed him then, but luckily for James, she just vanished it instead."

We laugh and continued exchanging stories about James, Lily, and Harry when he was little.

Remus begins to yawn and I check the time. It's one o'clock in the morning.

I stretch and stand up. "Well, Remus. You should get to bed; it's pretty late. You have another assignment tomorrow, right?"

"Yes," Remus sighs and he stands up as well. I begin to walk towards the door, but I hear Remus's voice. "But, before I go, I have something to tell you something." I turn around and Remus looks sad.

"What is it?" I ask.

He figits with his Firewhisky. He looks old in the firelight.

"Er. I might sometimes..." he trails off. He visibly swallows and looks me in the eye. "I might sometimes see you as more than a friend. I wanted to tell you because I think it would be not right if you didn't know. I don't want to keep any more secrets. I promise you I will never act upon my feelings and I will try my best to do away with them; I just feel wrong keeping this a secret to you, seeing as you are my last true friend on earth. I especially thought I should warn you as you often sleep in my bed."

I feel lightheaded. My first thought is disbelief. "You sure about this? You aren't lying or playing some practical joke on me? Or Fred and George are?" I craned my neck around to see if I could see a flash of a smirking face or one of those blasted fleshy ears they were so fond of dangling into our Order meetings, bless their little prankster hearts.

Remus nods morosely. "I solemnly swear this is all true. I'll give you time to think about this. I'm sorry, Sirius." His shoulders were hunched as he turned away.

My heart seems to burst out of my chest. I quickly run around him so I am facing him and crash my face against his.

It is awkward. In my haste to kiss him, my teeth clank against his teeth and my nose smooshes against his cheek. I hug him tightly trapping one of his arms to his body. My heart is pounding in my chest and it feels _wonderful._

But he pushes me away. "Honestly, Sirius. You don't have to pretend to like me. Forget I said anything. It's making you act weird." Remus avoids looking at me. He looks down at the floor.

"I like you a lot, Remus" I say very fast and immediately scold myself. _Stop sounding like you are confessing to your first crush. You are a fully grown man._

"I mean," I say in a very manly way as I reach for his hand. "I fancy you. A lot. And I have for a while. I've just been too much of a coward to tell you so." I look at him pleadingly. He is still studying the floor like it holds the answers to his lycanthropy. "Please, Remus. Believe me."

Remus looks at me and smiles. He suddenly looks about twenty years younger. He is beautiful.

This time I take my time. I put my arms around him, as I always had longed to. I lean forward and kiss his lips delicately.

His eyes close and his eyelashes flutter against my cheek.

"Goodnight, Remus," I say holding him close.

"Goodnight, Sirius," Remus murmurs. I can feel the vibration of his voice in his chest and the brush of his breath on my neck. It causes goosebumps to race along my arms and my spine to shiver.

I kiss his cheek. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do this."

"Do what?"

I kiss him again. I can't stop myself.

We stay like that, entwined in the darkened house for a while, until I pull him back to the couch.

"Stay with me," I trace his jawline with my finger. He smiles and lies down on the couch. I flick the door closed with my wand so that Kreacher won't walk in and I lie down next to him, content at last.

* * *

I wake up to Molly's voice.

"Well it's just about time. You two were bothering me with all your lovesick staring," I crack open one eye and see Molly staring at me.

"Come on now. Get up. I don't want you scaring the children," she prods me with a finger.

 _Lovesick staring? She knows!_ My eyes open wide.

"Molly. I'm really sorry. It won't happen again. I promise you. Please, don't tell anyone," I say very fast springing away from Remus.

And Molly does the unexpected. She laughs. "Don't you worry, dear. I think you two are very sweet together." She pats Remus's check and smiles at him. Remus is still asleep.

Molly is still looking at Remus. "You make him laugh and smile, and it's about time he gets some happiness in his life." I nod. This is going better than I expected.

As if she could hear me, she suddenly looks at me, her brown eyes fierce and red hair flaming. "And if you _ever_ hurt him, you will live to regret it, Sirius Black." Her wand is pointed at my chest and little gold sparks are flying out of it. She reminds me of Lily and I get a strong feeling of _deja vu_. Lily said the exact same thing when I told her I thought Remus was the traitor.

"I promise, I promise," I find myself stammering.

"Good good," she is all smiles again. "I'll go fix up some breakfast then." She leaves with a swish of her dress.

I make a mental note to myself. _Never ever, come on the wrong side of Molly Weasley._

Remus is stirring. He is adorable. I smile at him as he peers sleepily at me.

"Morning, Moony," I say and kiss him on the cheek.

He grumbles at me and turns back into the couch coushin.

I smile at him and resist the urge to jump with happiness. I am in love! I am in love.

I would never hurt Remus. Never again. I'm going to miss him so fucking much when he's gone.

 _Please_ , I think. _Let him be safe_.


	8. Chapter 8

Remus left for his Order mission today. He gave me a light kiss on my cheek, and apparated away into the darkness. At night, I walked past Remus's bedroom to my own cold lonely bedroom.

I toss and turn in my bed. My heart is pounding wildly and my sheets are twisted, trapping my legs underneath me. I had forgotten the excitement of love. I feel as though I am racing through life. I cannot wait for the next moment when I can see Remus again. My heart pounds with just the thought of him.

I cannot sleep. I am in love. It feels as though I can't wait to see him next. I remember all those mornings where I spent a ridiculous amount of time in front of the mirror attempting to shape my hair back into luxury and to make my face less sunken and more handsome. I was afraid (and still am afraid) that I am fighting a losing battle. At worst, I resemble a particularly well preserved Inferi. At best, I am a faded version of my younger self.

And for the first time since Azkanan, I eagerly anticipate my life. The things we'll do...

I wonder if this is what Lily and James felt when they were in love.

I wonder what would happen if only James survived. Or only Lily survived. What would they do? Raise Harry of course, I suppose. But would they find another lover?

I can't imagine James finding another lover, but I know he would've wanted Lily to move on if he died. He said so himself to her.

What if Remus died? My brain instantly rebels. No, no, no, no, no. Don't even think about it while he's on a mission, I tell myself. Don't want to make it come true.

What if I died? How would Remus feel?

I sigh. Thoughts in this house always turn to death. Mother certainly wasted away after Father died. I do believe it was the lack of someone to fight with that ultimately killed her. Or the disappointment that she wasn't the one to finish him off.

I feel a surge of anger run through my body. If I died, I would break this fucking curse that this house puts on everyone. If I die, Remus will love again, will live life to the fullest. (But maybe not love them as much as he loved me, I add selfishly.) But still, I would want Remus to be _happy._ Remus would not drown in sadness. If I had to fucking come back and haunt him for it, I would make sure he moves on.

I check the time. Two am in the morning. I feel wide awake.

Suddenly I decide. _Fuck sleep_ , I think as I swing my legs over the side of the bed. I tiptoe downstairs to fix myself a midnight snack.

I don't expect to see Molly Weasley sitting at the table; her shoulders shake as if she were crying. I tiptoe closer. She _is_ crying. Her face is blotchy and red.

"Hello Sirius," she says looking down at the table. "I know you are there, you know."

"Hullo Molly," I say. "What are you doing up at this time of night? You all right?" I sit down on the chair next to her. I had been carefully polite to Molly ever since my fight with her and especially since she had discovered me and Remus.

"Couldn't sleep," she says. "What about you?"

"Yeah, same" I say. "You all right?" I repeat.

She sighs and her shoulders cave in. "It's the war."

"Has anyone died?" I ask suddenly concerned. Remus? My brain panics. "Is everyone okay?"

"Yes, yes! Everyone, to my knowledge at least, is alright." She pauses. "That's not it."

"Oh," I respond. There is silence at the table. I am shit at comforting people. I wish Remus were here.

"I have dreams," Molly finally says. "Bad dreams. Of everyone dying." Her voice breaks into a sob.

"Oh, Molly," I say, trying to sound comforting. _What would Remus say if he were here?_ "We're alright now. Here, have a tissue." I put an arm around her shoulder and conjure up a handkerchief. It is purple with yellow dots, but it will do.

"Thanks, Sirius," she wipes her eyes. She bites her lip. "I just keep having dreams of Arthur dead, Bill dead, Charlie dead, the twins dead, Ron and Ginny dead, Harry dead." She starts to sob again. I feel my heart constrict. Harry dead. I hope I never hear those words. As long as I live, Harry will never die. I won't let James down again. I pat Molly's back in what I hope is a comforting manner.

"Did you talk to Arthur about it?" I ask after she has collected herself.

"I don't want him to think I'm silly. I know he's worried about it too."

"It's not silly, Molly. We're all worried; I can tell you that," I pause. "That's why I couldn't sleep." I turn to her. Maybe she can help me. "You got married to Arthur when Voldemort first was rising." She cringes at the mention of the name Voldemort. "Weren't you worried about him dying? When you had just fallen in love and gotten married?"

Molly turns to look at me and smiles through her tears. "Oh Sirius, are you worried about Remus? You are surprisingly sweet sometimes." I blush.

"I was also thinking about what happen if I die." I say looking away from her teary face down at the table. "I want Remus to be alright. I would die for him, you know. In a heartbeat. And Harry too, of course."

Molly smiles sadly. "We would all die for Harry, wouldn't we. He's such a sweet boy. I often worry what would happen to my children if Arthur and I die."

I laugh. "Don't be silly, Molly. We would take care of them, protect them. To the best of our abilities. They'd be well taken care of."

She smiles gratefully at me. I smile back, but my brain is still concerned with Remus.

"Molly?" I begin hesitantly. "If I die..." I trail off. I want to get the words just right. "I know you will look after Harry; everyone will. But, will you look after Remus for me? Make sure he's eating, doesn't get too beat up after the full moon, make sure he has money?" I take a deep breath. "I'm leaving everything to Harry, of course. The Black family money is cursed so that werewolves or Muggles can't get a hold of it, but I want Remus to take the galleons I've hidden in the safe in my room. There's a good amount in there. Should last him for at least a year or two. Maybe more. I'm pretty sure that's the only money that won't be cursed if he takes it."

She looks at me with fresh tears in her eyes. "Of course I'll take care of Remus, Sirius. Remus is a friend."

I take a deep breath and look into her eyes. They are brown, which reminds me of Remus's eyes (though they are no where near as pretty as his eyes which are simply captivating). This is the hardest thing to say. "And will you make sure Remus moves on?" My voice breaks at the end.

"Moves on?" Molly asks. She tilts her head as if she does not understand.

"Make sure he finds someone else to love. Someone else to be happy with. Preferably a woman." I pause and leave my unspoken words in the silence: _because I don't want to be replaced by another man._ I am such a selfish bastard sometimes. "I know he doesn't think he deserves love, but he does. He can start a family. Be happy. Can you convince him of that? And make sure he is happy? If I'm ever gone?" To my embarrassment, my eyes are full of tears that escape my eyes and drop traitorously down my face. I wipe them off angrily with my sleeve. What is wrong with me these days? Crying at every bloody moment.

Molly puts a comforting hand on my arm. "I'll do my best," she says. Suddenly, tears are streaming down my face. I can't stop them. I don't know if I am crying for Remus or crying for myself.

"Oh, Sirius," she says softly. "I promise. He'll be happy."

I put my head down on the table and she stands up to make some tea. We sit silently at the kitchen table with dry faces and wet handkerchiefs and drink tea until the sunrise. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

And in those few hours, I have tremendous respect for Molly Weasley. I didn't know of a person so brave, who could love so much and has everything to lose and yet can take on more grief, and more suffering; who can take this pain away from others and not take it out on others. I wonder how she gets up every morning with a smile on her face. Sometimes I think that she is much braver than I'll ever be.

No wonder she was sorted into Gryffindor.


	9. Chapter 9

Remus comes back and he looks like shit.

It is past midnight when I open the door. Blood drips down his pale face and he is gripping the doorway unusually hard, is if that is all that is keeping him from toppling over. His patched robes are covered with dark liquid that I presume is blood and his leg is trembling.

"Shit," I say looking at him.

He smiles wanly. "Can you help me in? I don't know how much longer I can stand here."

His voice snaps me out of my shock. "Of course, of course. I don't know why I was just standing there like that." I put his arm around my shoulder and guide him inside. I can feel his ribs prominently through his robes and my hands are covered with blood. His leg shakes violently.

"Do you want me to levitate you instead?" I ask him. "What happened?"

"No, it's alright," he says grimacing in pain. "Levitation makes me nauseated. I can make it to the kitchen. I'll tell you later."

I nod and attempt to lug him silently past where my mother's portrait was sleeping. There is a moment when Remus knocks into that stupid troll's leg, but he catches it before it can fall down and make a racket.

"Close call," he whispers. I look at him and instantly know he is in a lot of pain. His face is pallid and a thin sheen of sweat covers his face.

Before he can protest, I sweep my arm under his legs and lift him up, bridal style.

"Sirius!" Remus hisses. "Put me down. You'll drop me."

"I'd never drop you, Moony," I argue quietly. "Do you really have such little faith in my strong manly arms?"

Remus snorts with ill-disguised laughter and I am offended.

"The last time you said that was back in 7th year. I vaguely recall you dropped me off a broom not even thirty seconds later. Luckily, Pete was under me, so I had a bit of a human cushion as I fell," whispers Remus as I tiptoe past the mummified house elf heads to the kitchen.

"Really," I murmur. "I don't remember that actually. And that was only one time! Look how well I'm carrying you now!"

"Sirius Black, you are my savior," mocks Remus. "Every night I dream about you sweeping me into your manly arms and snogging me thoroughly. I would die without you near."

"I-I," I sputter and Remus dissolves into mad giggling until he winces.

"Ow. Ow," he says as his face scrunches up in pain. He grips his side with his hands.

"Alright?" I ask worriedly. "We're almost there."

He nods and closes his eyes as I rush to deposit him on the kitchen table.

"Why are you putting me on the table, Sirius?" Remus asks.

"It's just temporary, until I heal the worst of your wounds," I say as I rush about gathering healing potions. "Then we can get you cleaned up and put to bed."

I slather some of the gooey potions on his head wound and mutter incantations as I watch the skin knit itself together. I carefully cut off his robe to put dittany on his side wound. Remus winces with pain and I kiss his check.

"Alright there, babe?" I ask.

"Yes, I'm alright," Remus pauses and smirks, "Babe."

"Shut up," I say gently as I examine his leg wound. "You are awfully feisty today."

"Took a potion so I could have the strength to travel here," Remus says grinning at me. "It'll wear off in a while. Side effect is that it makes me bold, bolsters my courage."

"Hmmm," I murmur. "James took it once before. It doesn't seem like it has affected you as much as it affected him."

"Didn't take a lot of the potion," Remus says wincing as I put dittany on his leg. "And I would like to think that I naturally have a calmer disposition than James. I don't think James would have needed the potion, as he acts like he's on it all the time. So do you." Remus grinned at me again.

"I may act rash, but I am a trembling coward inside," I say smothering another wound with potion.

"Nonsense," says Remus. "You are very brave." I grunt noncommittally, but my heart skips a beat.

"What did James do on the potion?" Remus asks. He looks a lot better now that I have healed the worst of his wounds.

"He ran down the street starkers," I recall with a laugh. "In front of Lily. Which affirmed her view that he was an idiot. This was before they dated."

I look at Remus and his lips are quirked up in a smile; his eyes are bright and mischievous. "He was a right genius, wasn't he, our Prongs?"

I laugh, "Yeah." Remus has closed his eyes.

"I think it's starting to wear off," he says with a yawn.

"Let's get you cleaned up, then," I say and pick him up again. He leans his head into my chest and I breath in his shampoo. Even when he is all beat up and bloody, Remus still manages to smell clean.

I take him to the bathroom and set him on the floor as I start the bath. I make sure the water isn't too hot. I turn around and Remus's head has slumped against his shoulder and his face looks grey with exhaustion.

"Remus," I say and I kiss him on the cheek. "Let me help you out of your robes."

I detangle long limbs from frayed bloodied robes, revealing a scarred wiry body. I help Remus up, and oogle his rather perfect arse as he steps into the bath. I get a washcloth and begin to wipe the dirt and crusted blood off of his body. He sighs as I wipe his face with the towel. I feel ashamed that even though he is tired and beat up, the only thing on my mind is that he is so damn _sexy_.

He is asleep when I finally finish. I kiss him on the forehead before shaking him gently.

"Moony. I'm going to help you out of the bath, alright?"

Remus grumbles and squints at me, before closing his eyes again. I decide to let him rest; I levitate him out of the bath and wrap him in a fluffly grey towel. I carefully float him out of the doorway, down the hall, and into his room before placing him on the bed. I arrange the blankets so that they cover him and with a moments thought, slip in besides him.

"Goodnight, Moony," I say as I wrap my arms around him. A knot of tension in my heart loosens, and I am comforted by his steady breathing before I fall asleep.


	10. Chapter 10

Harry is found not guilty.

I look at Harry and think of how proud James would be of him. Harry is a good kid, better than the good parts combined of James, Remus, and I at any rate. He is smart, handsome, kind and great at Quidditch. He has a sense of humor. (Of course he does, he's James's little boy!) He makes me so proud; he gives me a will to live.

Harry looks so happy.

For a while, I revel in his happiness, giddily living through Harry's life. He will return to Hogwarts, eat to his hearts content, sleep in his magnificent four poster bed, love, laugh, live.

But when the warm glow of the firewhiskey begins to wear off, I begin to feel the darkness set back in.

I wish _I_ were not found guilty. Hell, I wished they gave me a trial. Those fucking assholes.

And I don't even want to think it, but I know it's true: a tiny traitorous part of my heart wishes that he were found guilty. Then he would stay with me and I wouldn't be so fucking lonely.

Hell, I could teach him spells, teach him how to survive as a runaway. We would redo this entire fucking house so that every last scrap of the Moste Evile and Inbred House of Black is scrubbed out of it. We'd add an indoor Quidditch field, we'd feast on unhealthy food, we'd put in those marvelous baths that they have for prefects. I would make a garage to construct another improved flying motorbike and James-... Harry...I mean, Harry could make improvements to his broom. If I close my mind I can see it all, close enough to touch.

I look at Harry, our eyes meet, his green against my grey and the image shatters. He is laughing with Ron and Hermione, his best friends, and his eyes are green, not brown.

The party suddenly seems too loud.

I slink off into the darkness into my ice cold bed and cast a feeble Heating Charm.

Alone. I'm always so bloody alone. I rightly feel miserably for myself.

And then I'm not cold anymore. I'm burning hot with anger.

"I SPENT THE LAST THIRTEEN FUCKING YEARS ALONE," I yell at the walls. "MY BEST FRIEND IS DEAD. HE'S _DEAD._ "

And then it hits me. James is dead. He's never coming back.

So I put a silencing charm on the door and scream as if there is no tomorrow.

"FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU!" I don't know who I am cursing at- my mom, Dumbledore, the Wizemgot which tried Harry, Peter Fucking Pettigrew, or Voldemort, the biggest fucker of them all- but it feels good to curse.

And then it is as if a switch is flipped and I am sobbing into my pillow, curled up in fetal position, rocking back and forth.

I don't know how long I stayed like that, but at some point I felt a hand rubbing my back and instead of holding a pillow I was holding a comfortable sturdy figure that smelled of parchment and chocolate.

Remus.

I rubbed my cheek against his ultra soft cardigan and he wiped my nose with a handkerchief.

"Are you alright, Sirius?" he asked.

"'M fine now," I said.

He gave a murmer of what sounded like disagreement and continued to rub my back.

"I don't know why I always act like I'm three years old with you," I said.

"I'm pretty sure you always act like you are three years old, Sirius. You run around, pick your nose, and cause mischief wherever you go."

I smile. Then sigh. "I mean I always behave like such a... such a baby. I've cried more with you in the past month than I have in my entire life."

"Crying is not a sign of weakness," came the calm soothing response.

"Yes, it is," I counter.

"No, it isn't," Remus snorts. "It's a way to express your feelings. It's good. It's cathartic. It's healthy to talk about and express your feelings."

I grunt.

"Oh, but Sirius is too _manly_ to discuss his feelings," Remus gently mocks.

I snort.

"Now he's too manly to talk at all. He just communicates in grunts and snorts." Remus pokes my side and I squirm and laugh.

"It's hard to see Harry," I admit once our laughter has subsided.

"He does have a striking resemblance to James. It was hard for me too. When I first saw him."

"He looks as though James was cloned. Besides the eyes, which are purely Evans. But even so, it's just so ..." I trail off.

"You never had a chance to process James's death," says Remus.

"But you'd think I'd get over it after fifteen years, wouldn't you?"

"Emotional wounds heal slower than physical. Believe me. I've had enough experience with both to know." I look up and Remus looks tired again. My heart sinks. In my own self pity, I forget that I'm not the only one who bore the brunt of the damage in the war.

I am too cowardly to ask him about how he felt, how he feels, so I pull my self up and kiss him. I try to put my feelings and my questions into the kiss; I caress his face and hair with my fingers. I wish I had the courage to do this years and years ago.

I move down to his neck and kiss it. "I'm lonely sometimes," I mumble against his Adam's apple in a voice so quiet I don't think Remus hears.

"I'll be here, Sirius." I feel myself getting pulled back up to look at Remus. His eyes seem to glow

"Thank Merlin for that. I don't know how I survived without you."

"Are you being serious?"

I can't resist. I turn to him and look him dead in the eye. "I'm always Sirius."

Remus groans loudly. "I walked into that, didn't I."

I laugh. "Yup."

He smiles at me, and I touch his cheek. "But honestly, I don't know how I survived without you."

"You're stronger than you think, Sirius," said Remus.

We sit there in silence for a few moments. I breath in and out. Remus rubs my back in spirals.

"Want to plan an escape from Grimmauld Place?" Remus says, breaking the silence.

I smile. "I wouldn't be a Marauder if I said no."

Remus shifts so that his head rests on my chest. Merlin, he is beautiful.

Thank Merlin, I am not alone.

* * *

(Sorry I took so long to update! I got buried in work, but I hope to be back writing in the next month. Thank you for the reviews!)


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